


The Baths of Rivendell

by MoinMoin



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Architecture Is Abused, Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Bilbo is horny, Dubious Timeline, Elves are generous and fair, Gandalf Meddles, M/M, Porn with Prologue, Rivendell, thorin is horny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 14:54:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3614094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoinMoin/pseuds/MoinMoin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the company arrives at Elrond’s house, Bilbo is ready for a holiday and the baths of Rivendell prove to be a sight that even Thorin can appreciate. In which Bilbo decides not to think about a certain dwarf king only to find him naked in his pool.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I

Rivendell was a relief after the long journey there. For Bilbo, the way there had been mostly spent trying to impress his companions, people he didn’t know and whose ways were foreign to him, and still he started to care for them. More than they cared for him, he said to himself darkly, sometimes. It was especially hard on those times, the many times that he looked up and saw Thorin looking at him with a scowl on his face and that look that said he didn’t want him there, that he thought of Bilbo only as a burden. Things had changed somewhat after the incident with the trolls, because it was clear to everyone that it was Kili and Fili who had begun all the trouble. And after a comment from Gandalf even Thorin had to admit that it was clever of Bilbo to play for time until the sun came up.

Bofur’s easy friendship and the conversation that went with it was another thing that often lifted Bilbo’s spirits. The cheerful dwarf seemed to have no reservations against him, and he didn’t allow Thorin’s dark looks to command his dealings with the burglar. Balin, who seemed so care so much about dwarfish pride and kept even Thorin in check, was never hard on him either. And Fili and Kili had their fun riling him sometimes – well, often, but they were friendly nonetheless. Still, four out of 13 dwarves was not enough to feel accepted into the company. Bilbo was a hobbit after all, and he cared a bit about his social status.

So Rivendell and the company of the elves was relief. It bolstered Bilbo’s spirits to realize that the dwarves’ low opinion of him was not shared by this noble folk. His knowledge of plants and growing things earned him respect and if the dwarves didn’t enjoy all the green food – he liked it, and it’s availability at any time. The elves, at least those of Rivendell and Lord Elrond’s household, were a free and giving people. They shared food and wine as well as their many talents freely, and Bilbo delighted in the songs and music that a lot of them seemed to practise. He also enjoyed something he found on the second day of their stay, which was the communal baths.

Rivendell, meaning split valley, was built on a waterfall after all. The waters went by the house either wildly or set in beautiful canals and ponds. The great surprise for the hobbit, however, was to find out that there were hot springs in the valley as well. It seemed an unusual place for hot springs, which, as Bilbo knew because he enjoyed in knowledge and read many books on geography and soils, were often associated with volcanic activity. Perhaps the magic of the elves had something to with it – Gandalf seemed to suggest as much when a much-impressed Bilbo met him on his way from the baths. Something about Elrond having a great way with water. Of course, the cryptic comment was accompanied by his customary wink, which made Bilbo wonder if it wasn’t some kind of innuendo. Naturally, that made him bite his tongue and stop the questions that were already rising in his mind. The wizard was not someone he felt comfortable with, on this terrain, not like Bofur who happily chatted about everything including, Bilbo had found to his amusement, sexual life. Apparently dwarves were not secretive about everything! Gandalf was another friend among the company, but not one that Bilbo was entirely comfortable with. He seemed to have altogether too many interests of his own to be trustworthy. Even Thorin didn’t really seem to trust Gandalf…

Thorin. Bilbo wanted to slap himself. Only fifteen minutes ago, waking up from a dream that he barely remembered – but that had evidently featured the dark haired dwarf, since he basically woke up with his name on his lips – he had been adamant not to think of that name again, or the person associated with it, for that matter. The leader of the company came up on his mind all too often, and lately it wasn’t just because he worried about his opinion of him. 

Bilbo had to admit to himself that if he often noticed Thorin looking at him critically, it was because his own eyes were often trained on the dwarf. Tall, dark-haired and grumpy-looking in a sexy way, Bilbo had probably noticed Thorin’s good looks right away, when he was standing in his smial at Bag End. At least a part of him had noticed, and that part had wanted to bat eyes and scoot closer and perhaps offer his pipe when they were alone so he would be allowed to put _something_ into that hot mouth... But during their trip those thoughts had been buried by more immediate needs, or danger to his life, for that matter. Now the soft feather beds of Rivendell seemed to bring back his libido, and if that was due to elvish magic such effects had gone without any mention in his books.

Yesterday he’d stayed in bed for hours, missing breakfast because he couldn’t deem himself fit to be seen in society before some things were seen to. Or, more precisely, before he could trust himself not to start humping a dwarf king upon sight.

Still, today it was his goal not to think of said king, and he would keep to it.

With a determined look on his face the hobbit ceased fiddling with his towel and wash things and gathered them all in a basked that the elves had helpfully provided him with. He would go to the one place he was sure not to meet the king of bad moods and visit the baths.

II

Thorin didn’t like elves, and he found their architectural tastes just as irritating. Dwarves were of the mountain, and even though his exile had forced him to spend most of the second half of his life over ground, he preferred that ground to be rock. Rivendell was surely built on rock, however, most of the houses were actually light wood constructions that were only anchored in the stone in a few strategic places. Thorin could feel he wood underneath him shift and shake, and it made him feel unstable. It also made him directionless. Contrary to his reputation, Thorin was rather good at directions, under normal circumstances. Like all dwarves he had no trouble finding his way in a maze of tunnels, even in the dark. But dwarfish tunnels were built into the rock, and he could sense it – the solid feeling of dry stone, the wildness of waterways inside a mountain, the veins of metal all whispered to him of their presence. Carved wood and flimsy paper walls instead told him nothing.

So the dwarf king let out a string of curses under his breath while he tried to find his way through the House of Elrond. Numerous unplanned detours had shown him more of the place then he would’ve cared to find out, and he thought he’d run into at least a dozen skilled harpists practising their art in quiet corners, surely singing about the beauty of an elvish weed or something similar. To make matters worse they usually noticed that he was lost and tried to chat him up… A particularly annoying specimen had even assumed he was a fan and had followed the music to its source. The dwarf shook his head in disgust at the memory. Thorin played the harp as well, but he was sure his instrument didn’t sound _whiny._

Anyway, right now he was on his way to the only place in the Rivendell he had found and really liked because it was built directly into the stone. He was going to visit the baths.


	2. Chapter 2

III

The baths had the desired effect. Again he was impressed by the beauty of the high ceilings, some of them obviously natural, coming down into simple buttresses. If dwarves inhabited this place, there would be more ornaments, more decoration in general, to show the wealth of their owners. If someone were to mention this, Thorin would have to grudgingly admit that he preferred them as they were. His eschewing of luxury had been a necessity at first, and then a symbol of his exile. However, as the years went on, he’d started to prefer an elegant form to exorbitant decoration.

Thorin let himself into the water and waded to a small bench inside the pool that was one with the rock that made up the wall and ceiling. He leaned back against the warm stone and within a few minutes inside the water his mind was calm and serene. It had paid off to get up early, too, because he hadn’t met a single elf on the corridor or inside the bath. Didn’t elves appreciate sunsets, he mused as he started to clean himself with a soap bar. Probably still tired from all that stargazing, came the answer in his mind. Thorin grinned at his own joke. 

Meticulously he cleaned himself from head to toe. First, actually, came the toes. His feet were pale and almost bare, covered only by a few dark hairs. So unlike those of their burglar, Thorin thought as he let the soap bar wander from his toes up to his knees. 

And suddenly there was another image in his mind. Bilbo, looking at him. Where did that come from? Thorin remembered the day. It was after the incident with the trolls, with the rain gone, one of the first sunny days. They had been riding for many hours that day, but the weather was great and they made good time, and in the afternoon there was a feeling of accomplishment. Thorin had been humming a tune while he was putting up a tent, the company around him busy with preparations when he caught Bilbo’s eye. The hobbit had looked at him with such strange intensity that Thorin, caught off guard, had found himself the first to break the gaze. When he looked up again, Bilbo had turned away, and the moment was gone.

The look hadn’t been flirty, just curious, surprised maybe. But it was enough to make Thorin realize the potential, the possibility even of flirting, of taking everything that annoyed him about this supposed burglar and turning it into a fantasy, a turn-on. Whenever the hobbit now planted himself in front of him to deliver his annoyingly clever opinions, he wouldn’t listen to the words.  
He would just look at his animated face and listen to the exasperated sounds coming from it. And he would be utterly turned on by it. Ah, to take that face in his hands and lean down and shove his tongue into the open mouth…

The hand with the soap had now reached the end of his thigh, and Thorin was not surprised when he found himself half hard. An experimental tug send shivers through his spine, awaking a deep need, and he knew he wouldn’t get out of the bath before he found his release. 

IV

Bilbo scrubbed himself from head to toe and showered at a nearby fountain before he put on some clean underpants as swimwear. This wasn’t necessary, according to the elves, who weren’t shy with their nakedness, but Bilbo did it out of habit. After he that combed out his hair, just like the elves had shown him, though he was sure it looked far less elegant when he did so. Elves were a very clean folk, and the idea was to keep the water clean as well. When he was sure that he was properly clean, he went towards the pools.

The bathing pools were meant to be relaxing, healing or invigorating, depending on the temperature or ingredients added. As it was still early morning, Bilbo wasn’t going to visit the hot tubs again. They were really pleasant and relaxing, but they would also kill his circulation. He was not going to faint in the baths, especially when there was no one around to save him from drowning – the baths seemed positively empty at this time. After a little wandering in the cave-like complex, he found a shallow pool with medium temperature water that seemed to meander between other pools, perhaps a way to move forward without leaving the water, or a pool for children. Bilbo decided to take a swim. 

The gurgling sound of water was all around him as he swam slowly, the only sound heard in the empty rooms. A splash here or there, too, because the hobbit was not a practised swimmer – in fact, he remembered, he didn’t like swimming at all, it was only because the pool was so shallow that he dared to move away from edge. Nervously he tested for the floor again with his feet. It was still there. But Bilbo felt more comfortable walking in the water now. He was going to find out how far he could go, possibly to see the whole structure of caves that already seemed huge to him. Was it because the elvish population had dwindled that the baths seemed disproportionally large? Bilbo tried to imagine the tall rooms filled with elvish laughter and song.

Lost in these thoughts he drifted further along until he reached a big rock. The pool bent narrowly around it and as Bilbo approached the passage, he could feel a weak current moving against him. He’d just started to push forward against it when he noticed soap bubbles in the water. Soap – why would it be in the pool? Was there perhaps a bubble bath hidden behind the rock, or a fountain?

Bilbo edged around the rock and the sight he got once he could peek around the edge nearly made him faint, tepid water or not.

Rested against he edge of the pool, just a few metres away, was none other than Thorin Oakenshield, leader of the company and king under the mountain, and he was quite a sight. 

Thorin sat leaned back, one elbow propped up on the stone floor behind him. His long hair was still wet from the obvious washing it had gotten and some tendrils floated in the water around him. There was a growing ring of small white bubbles on the water surface around him, obviously the result of soap dissipating in the water. His eyes were closed, the mouth slightly open, letting out a content sigh as he used his second hand to wipe the water from his face. The hand continued over his chest, before it disappeared into the water. 

Bilbo swallowed at the sight. This really must be a pool for children, Bilbo thought, as he leaned forward to see better, the bank Thorin was sitting on seemed the right height for the dwarf. The perfect height to display his chest muscles in all their glory. Bilbo’s eyes darted over his body, taking in the dark hair, a little flattened by the water, the smooth skin decorated with tattoos, dark shapes that were strange to Bilbo’s eyes but complemented the body of their wearer. The water pooling at the dip of his throat made him want to put his mouth there. And that face again, its features scrunching a little now, the mouth moving to let out another sigh of pleasure… 

Bilbo couldn’t help himself. Without even making the decision his hand went under the water to find his erection.

He’d moved a little too fast, perhaps, because a distinctive splash could be heard. It rang in his ears. Oh no.

The dwarf opposite him went still. Slowly he sat up and opened his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

V

For a moment, the two looked at each other with wide eyes. Bilbo was the first to speak. 

“I… I thought I was alone here.”

Thorin only looked at him, his face unmoving but his eyes flashing.

Nervously, Bilbo went forward, wading towards the dwarf. _What am I doing_ , it echoed faintly in his head, but his instinct had always been to start talking when he was in an uncomfortable situation, and instinct persisted against good sense.

“Are you enjoying the bath?” What a stupid question. Bilbo wanted to slap himself mentally, for the second time today.

But after a moment, to his surprise, a slow smile formed on the face of the dwarf. His body seemed to relax, and he leaned back again, though not breaking eye contact with the hobbit. He cocked his head lightly.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.” Thorin spoke slowly, and then fell silent, seemingly waiting for Bilbo’s reaction. Bilbo meanwhile had moved forward a few steps, enough to get a better view, and while he was grasping for something to say – anything, really – he couldn’t stop himself from checking out the dwarf again. As his gaze travelled south, it came to a stop. Was that, that was–  
His eyes darted up to Thorin’s face, and now the dwarf was grinning widely. 

Yes, his companion was definitely sporting an erection, and if that was the case he knew what Thorin had been doing with his hand under the water only moments ago. And now he was grinning at him…

Bilbo stood frozen, until he heard the dwarf’s voice again. He was almost too distracted by the blood rushing through his head to make out the words.

“Would you like to join me, master hobbit?”

“Bilbo”, Bilbo pressed out after a moment, “Call me Bilbo.” An automatic response that would’ve resulted in another mental self-flagellation if he were even capable of such thoughts at the moment.

“Very well, Bilbo. Would you like to join me?”

The dwarf was positively leering now. And really, there was nothing Bilbo could do after so obvious an invitation. His hips made a sharp tug forward on their accord and he could feel his cock strain against the wet cloth of his underwear. Biting back a gasp, Bilbo took the last steps towards the king until he was standing in front of him, his legs almost touching the other’s knees inside the water.

Thorin opened his arms invitingly and Bilbo’s eyes again flew up to his face. Immediately he felt his gaze lost in his eyes, so distractingly blue, and how could he hope to find an eloquent answer to _that_. All he could do was hope that this was real and not a cruel joke. The dwarf leaned forward and strong hands came up to guide him as Bilbo scrambled into his lap. _Oh yes._

Their mouths found it each other blindly, at least on the hobbit’s side, for Bilbo had closed his eyes, and it was all teeth and lips and tongue, and desperate moans from then on. Thorin tasted indefinably great, and he kissed like he was starving, like he had been dreaming about this, too, and he pulled at Bilbo’s head and jaw, drawing him even deeper into the kiss. Bilbo bucked against him, and then Thorin’s hands were on his hips again, encouraging him to repeat the motion.

The kissing and touching continued, and even while his mind was hazy with lust, Bilbo silently made notes of his discoveries. He found that he liked the feeling of beard scraping his face, and so, between kisses, he did that, rubbing his face against it like a cat. He found, also, that dwarfish hair was thick and strong and Thorin would open his mouth wide when he pulled on it (and also, that he liked Thorin’s mouth to be wide and open so he could push in a finger and feel his sharp teeth, something that Thorin answered by biting him lightly). 

Bilbo didn’t know how long they’d been doing this, but he had a feeling that it wasn’t long before he felt his orgasm approaching, and he exercised what self-control he had to slow his motions. He didn’t care about the cleanness of the water any more, as all thoughts about propriety were gone from his head, but he didn’t want to come prematurely. After all, this was far too good to be over so soon. And Thorin seemed to understand the situation as he was slowing down as well before he stopped kissing him altogether. 

He didn’t, however, let go of Bilbo. His hands were currently buried in the hobbit’s locks, and they didn’t stop moving, fingertips caressing his scalp. And his look wasn’t leering anymore. Instead, Thorin was looking at him with desperation and unfulfilled longing, the kind of look, Bilbo told himself quickly, that sex without release could bring about. 

If this was to end badly – and that was likely, Bilbo thought – seeing that look would be worth it.

VI

Thorin kept looking at the hobbit, waiting for him to open his eyes. Somehow he found that he needed to see it, needed to see in his eyes what he’d felt through the kisses and caresses, and the hard cock nudging his abs. He needed to see that Bilbo wanted him. And when the hobbit finally looked up the dreamy look he gave him was so sexy he had to kiss him again, right away. 

Who knew that by holding back during the journey he’d been missing such hot action? Bilbo acted without constraints, showing his pleasure fully and tugging at his hair demandingly when he slowed down his kissing. But Thorin had something better in mind. Putting one arm around the hobbit’s hips, he pushed himself up with the other, sliding his ass over the edge of the pool until they were sitting with Bilbo straddling him just as before, only now outside the water. 

Bilbo gasped at the sudden movement, but held himself steady with his hands on the dwarf’s shoulders. His expression was suddenly shy, as if he knew what Thorin had planned. And to make sure he knew, Thorin told him.

“I want to fuck you,” he whispered into his ear.

The hobbit’s reaction was priceless, because he bucked against him and moaned, his eyes rolling back into his head. If that wasn’t a yes, Thorin wasn’t (going to be) the king under the mountain, and so after an answering roll of his hips he stretched out his arm to reach for his things. With one hand he went through the contents of his bag, feeling for the flask with the oil. It had been brought for his beard and hair, but now he would put it to a better use. With the other hand he fingered at the edge of Bilbo’s boxers, trying to give the hobbit the idea that these needed to come off soon. Bilbo, however, seemed to enjoy the feeling, and straddled him even harder, pushing his erection against Thorin’s so hard it almost hurt. 

His hand found the flask and he pulled it out and blindly put it down on his right. Then he went back to concentrating on the hobbit. Lightly he palmed both of their erections, his free one against Bilbo’s clothed one, and squeezed lightly. Bilbo threw his head back and moaned. It was a beautiful sight. His mouth was red and slack, and around his face his hair had started to dry and golden locks peeked out of the mass of his wet hair. 

Thorin was enjoying the view when suddenly the hobbit got up, swaying as he did so, as if he couldn’t quite find his balance. Quickly Thorin held up a hand so Bilbo could steady himself, and then the hobbit was standing in front of him, his feet on the bench inside the water, still holding his hand. 

A moment passed in which the two only looked at each other. Then Bilbo let go of his hand, hooked his thumbs into his boxers and made to push down the wet cloth slowly. Thorin reached forward to help him, gently lifting the waistband to stretch over his erection, revealing it carefully. Seeing it standing up freely made Thorin feel very hot inside, and he leaned forward, taking in the sight. He only noticed that he was staring when Bilbo made a low sound in his throat. 

Thorin looked up. Bilbo had that look on his face again, the one from the camping ground, that he couldn’t quite place, but this time it was mixed with red lips, swollen from kissing, and Thorin had an idea that it meant both surprise at his behaviour and appreciation for it. Thus encouraged to surprise the hobbit even more, he leaned forward to place a wet, sucking kiss on the crown of his cock.

This time Bilbo’s expression was almost shocked.

“Bilbo… Do you want this?” 

Despite his earlier claim, Thorin felt the need to ask. Bilbo had already shown that he was no innocent, and quite good at giving pleasure, too. But they were moving fast. A few minutes ago, neither of them had even known the other had any interest in him. A few minutes ago, they hadn’t been intimately acquainted with each other’s bodies, not to mention the deeper intimacy of their shared looks. It was those looks that made Thorin think twice of hurrying Bilbo along. He wanted to do this right.

The hobbit’s eyes flickered to the flask of oil and then back to Thorin. He nodded mutely. Then, perhaps remembering he had a voice, he said simply “Yes.” His eyes were wide, as if in fright, but on his lips a small smile was forming. 

Still looking at him the hobbit then moved to step out of his boxers completely and slowly turned around, the smile now bordering on teasing.


	4. Chapter 4

VII

“Bilbo… Do you want this?” 

Thorin was asking him this, and his voice sounded raspy and aroused, eager and yet unsure. It was a good question, and a bad question, too, because for a moment it made Bilbo waver, made him think about his situation and the fact that he was starting something that he didn’t know the consequences of. Even worse, it made him wonder about the possibility and horrors of bad sex, the embarrassment of which was something Bilbo had never learned how to deal with elegantly.

But it was only a moment, and then the hobbit dismissed these thoughts as altogether useless. He was an adventurer now, wasn’t he, and he was going to take his chances. 

Bilbo blinked and found he was looking at the flask of oil on the floor and thought of what could be done with it – the pleasures he might be given, the incredible fact that he was not spinning fantasies in his room but living them right now. And he knew what he wanted. Yes, he nodded, and looked up again. “Yes”, he said, looking into Thorin’s eyes with renewed strength.

 

VIII

Thorin swallowed when Bilbo bowed down, raising his backside to the dwarf while still looking at him with wide and expectant eyes. 

Heat surged through Thorin. It was good, a rush like adrenaline, fast and strong. “Yes.” Such a crazy and delicious sight, that offering. Rosy skin glowing in the morning light, and shadows cast in between. And his body so small and smooth, bared to him without reservations. Thorin just stared for a moment, unable to move but suddenly trembling with lust, wanting to push forward, wanting to take. 

He swallowed again thickly, trying to get his composure back. Slowly he raised his hand to touch Bilbo’s thighs just beneath his ass, pushing his thumbs along the edge of those muscles, massaging them and drawing them apart. Bilbo hissed, whether in delight or surprise Thorin could not tell, but the sound increased his lust and he was greedy for more skin, more sounds. He repeated the movement, faster this time, staring only at what was right in front of him, hypnotised by the sight.

“Yes!” This time it sounded like a moan, high and needy, and he didn’t know whether it came from him or Bilbo or both of them but the body underneath his hands was writhing, arching towards him, and Thorin’s thoughts just stopped when he leaned forward and tasted Bilbo with his tongue, sliding in deeply.

Bilbo howled, and there was bit of pain in it, even though he kept still and did not draw away. They stayed still for a second, then Thorin drew back, and their eyes met again. He could hardly see clear but even with his blurred sight he recognized Bilbo’s panting mouth and dark eyes. He wanted him so badly it hurt, wanted to delve into that mouth, that body, take him with every inch of his being… but he would take his time, he needed to. 

With a shudder, Thorin leaned back, yet he kept his hands on Bilbo, patting him reassuringly. “Easy,” he rasped out, “easy,” and it was both to him and Bilbo that he said it. When he looked again the hobbit’s eyes were closed and he was still panting and red in the face, but he seemed relaxed. After a few moments Thorin had collected himself enough to go on – for to go on was necessary, his cock was twitching between his legs and his stones were already tight and hard as marble.

He took the oil, spilling some on his hands. Too much, and it was dripping down his hands and into the water, but the dwarf didn’t notice. He was busy touching Bilbo, massaging him while spreading the oil. The hobbit had stayed almost as before, backside in the air, but now he was supporting himself with his arms on his thighs. When he looked up to his face, the hobbit’s eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open as he sighed softly. Happy with the sight, Thorin gathered the shiny oil that was still dripping from Bilbo’s skin with his open hand, sliding the tips of his fingers downwards between the cheeks, and pushed in his middle finger slowly.

The opening was very tight at first, and Thorin had to still to let the muscles adjust to the intrusion. When they loosened a little he starting spreading them, slow and careful so it wouldn’t hurt, all the while petting anywhere he could reach with his other hand. 

It didn’t take long until his fingers were sliding in and out easily, and he was grateful for that, for now he could stop holding back. He slid in at a different angle and was rewarded by a loud moan.

The hobbit’s eyes were still closed but when Thorin looked at him, he saw a little smile form around his mouth, as if he could feel him staring, and a moment later his lids opened slowly.

They looked at each other. There were no words that came to Thorin’s mind, nothing suitably praising that wouldn’t sound tacky, nothing at all really that wasn’t already implied in the moment, the situation, the look of awe that was surely on his face, and so he kept quiet, just looking back at Bilbo. And for once in his life it seemed like the hobbit felt no need to speak either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um, I'm still not a native speaker and I can only hope this went well ^^U
> 
> Thanks for all the Kudos and the lovely comments!

**Author's Note:**

> 1 - I was really missing some bathing fics, so I decided to write one myself.  
> 2 - I'm not a native speaker, and I don't have a beta, so I offer humble apologies for my mistakes! Feel free to suggest corrections.


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